


accidents

by mulkki



Category: Danball Senki
Genre: Multi, i love cute dumb boys
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-04
Updated: 2014-09-07
Packaged: 2017-12-31 11:28:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 5,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1031174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mulkki/pseuds/mulkki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>collection of dumb dansen wars drabbles/short fics/the occasional long thing that I felt like churning out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> haruki's been overworking himself, and hikaru acts surprisingly nice.

Hikaru’s always been quiet and rather subtle in his actions. It’s led most people to believe he’s the quiet, diligent, and serious type, and Hikaru doesn’t really care to correct people because the image is more helpful than harmful. But he’s not all that responsible or dutiful, and compared to Haruki he’s quite the willful, aggressive boy.

Haruki, on the other hand, is the picture of diligence and duty--a responsible class president and all-around stellar student. One of the first things Hikaru comes to learn about Haruki is how uptight he is, whether in school or even in the dorms. But it’s not something that bothers Hikaru too much, and he can even appreciate it from time to time--for example, Haruki’s good student standing comes in handy whenever Arata screws up or does something reckless and gets their platoon in hot water. So Hikaru quietly accepts it as Haruki’s nature and lets him continue in his usual responsible model-student life.

But time goes by and while their platoon bonds with the rest of the class, Haruki remains unreachable in all his layers of duty and responsibility. Hikaru wonders if maybe it isn’t such a good thing for Haruki to shoulder on all the responsibility by himself--once, he catches Haruki staying late in the library writing reports on the daily missions that, according to Sakuya, were once shared duties among the platoon. It bothers Hikaru that Haruki won’t allow himself some flexibility or relief from his duties.

So one night, after Arata is fast asleep and snoring after a tiring mission, he knocks on Haruki’s door. He knows Haruki will answer, not because he’s expecting Hikaru to show up on his doorstep but because he’s likely awake and wearing himself out writing reports or handling other platoon leader-like duties. Hikaru doesn’t usually do things like this, but he figures Haruki could use some company and support in doing all this work; and call Hikaru “cold” and “detached” all you want, but he does care for his platoon members.

Haruki opens the door, wrapped in a jacket and looking a little sleep-deprived, but at the sight of Hikaru standing at his door with a tray of two steaming mugs is shocked awake. But before Haruki can form the thoughts and words to ask why Hikaru was here, Hikaru explains first.

“I noticed you were writing all the reports that are supposed to be shared duty among the platoon. And no, Sakuya didn’t tell me.” He lies a little about not finding out from Sakuya, because he doesn’t want Haruki blaming anything on Sakuya. “I’m here to help with the reports.” Hikaru lets himself into Haruki’s room and heads to the desk. There are already a lot of pages filled with Haruki’s neat, narrow handwriting, and Hikaru wonders how long he’s been working on these.

“Hikaru, I--”

“Haruki, when was the last time you had a full night’s sleep?”  
“...What?” Haruki’s sleep-deprived brain can’t come up with good answers in a timely manner, and Hikaru takes that as a sign that Haruki has gone for too long without sleeping properly. He sighs, and pushes Haruki in the direction of his bed.

“You haven’t had enough sleep to write reports, let alone pilot an LBX in War Time. I’m amazed you let yourself function this way for so long.” Hikaru tries not to sigh. “Let me finish these reports. And let me do the next reports, too; these were meant to be joint responsibilities with all of the platoon members.”

Haruki frowns and protests. “You and Arata are still new students to the school; I can’t force these jobs on you when you’re still getting used to the school as well as War Time.” He tries to make his way to the desk--Hikaru stops him and pushes him by the shoulders so Haruki is sitting on the bed. Once his body makes contact with the soft bed, though, Haruki’s shoulders finally sag and he stops resisting.

Hikaru looks down at him. “Haruki. It’s been months since we’ve been here. And I can understand not trusting Arata to write a decent report--” Haruki and Hikaru both chuckle a little at that. “--but if you’re putting me on the same level as him, I can’t be happy about that.” Haruki stops chuckling and looks to the side, sheepishly scratching the back of his neck. Hikaru sighs a little, but he’s not angry. If anything, Haruki looks pretty sorry--and the face he’s making is pretty adorable. “So Haruki, go to sleep. I’ll have these reports done in the morning.”

Haruki looks a bit confused, almost as if he’s asking why Hikaru would bother to come out in the middle of the night to write reports when he could be sleeping. Hikaru answers his confusion. “I’m doing this so we can have our platoon leader back in top shape for our upcoming War Time sessions. Believe it or not, we do rely on you as our leader, and we’d like to have him in operating function.” Haruki’s face shows a bit of surprise, like Hikaru had read his mind. Hikaru lets a small smile form on his face.

“Now sleep. Everything will be fine in the morning.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i love muraku, he's pretty fabulous
> 
> warning: spoilers for dansen wars ep 28, I think
> 
> also it's been a while since I've watched the first few dansen wars, forgive my bad memory

Arata’s been pretty curious about Muraku since pretty much the first time he heard of the “Violet Devil”. And after that battle at Gigant Wall, Arata’s pretty much had Muraku on his mind 24/7. It creeps Hikaru and Sakuya out a bit, but he doesn’t notice a thing--he’s too busy thinking about what Muraku’s up to at the moment.

But the months pass and events happen and Arata even ends up fighting _with_ Muraku, and honestly he’s never felt such a thrill in his heart as he teams up with Muraku’s Violet Devil against Bandit (although that might also have been due to the gravity of the situation). They form a sort of mutual rivalry/respect/acknowledgment of each other from that point, and Arata finds himself learning a bit more about Muraku each time they meet in Second World. Just bits and pieces, mind you, because Muraku likes to maintain that cool and mysterious aura and never gives a straight or satisfactorily informative answer.

(Muraku, on the other hand, knows more than enough about Arata--more than he honestly cares to know, because he _won’t shut up_.)

When the surprising transfer of Rossius’ 6th Platoon to Jenock happens, Arata nearly falls out of his seat--of course partially from surprise, but partially he’s so _excited_ over being classmates and nation-mates or whatever the word is with Muraku. And now, he figures, he can finally ask Muraku the burning question he’s been wanting to ask, ever since they first met face to face.

(He hasn’t had a chance to ask yet because each time they met the situation just wasn’t right for such a question.)

Lunchtime comes, and Arata finally gets a moment to have a talk with Muraku. Before any of the usual questions (like “hi”, “what happened with Rossius?”, “how’s the 6th Platoon doing in Jenock?”, or “hello, nice to see you again!”), he blurts out:

“Muraku! I’ve always wondered. What’s with your gloves?”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> buries face in hands
> 
> didn't expect to like these two so much
> 
> warning for hikaru/haruki i guess

Hikaru discovers that Haruki is actually pretty shy and easily embarrassed behind all of his stoic leader’s persona. He’s pretty hesitant to take risks, that much he learned from War Time, but he’s also not exactly open to trying out new things in real life, either.

Hikaru has also learned how to read Haruki--Haruki does have quite the range of emotions, and surprisingly gets easily stressed out (though considering his personality and his habit of taking on all the responsibility, maybe it’s not that surprising after all). Haruki has learned to suppress it well behind the calm, responsible persona he puts on, but Hikaru has learned to look past it from watching after Haruki.

So of course he’s noticed the way Haruki acts when faced with Hikaru in situations in which they’re alone, or alarmingly close, or just facing each other. And of course, Hikaru thinks, Haruki will never act on the feelings he’s trying so hard to suppress.

Which is why Hikaru makes the first move on one of the nights he goes over to help Haruki with the reports. Hikaru has been observing Haruki quietly all this time, but he’s observed quite enough now and is ready to act. He knows enough about Haruki and enough about his own feelings to know this will work, just like he knows how to operate his LBX after observing the flow of battle and striking where his actions will be the most effective.

Haruki is surprised when Hikaru first kisses him, and Hikaru isn’t surprised when Haruki freezes up for a second or five and starts blushing redder than Arata’s hair. Hikaru gives him a moment or two, and then leans in to kiss him again; but this time he’s the surprised one as Haruki kisses back immediately, and what do you know, he’s actually pretty good. He feels Haruki’s arms wrapping behind him, and Hikaru puts his arms up around Haruki’s shoulders so they can get even closer--and when they finally break apart, they’re both flushed and slightly embarrassed because hey, the whole thing was pretty sudden (and even Hikaru can be taken by surprise sometimes). But Hikaru is feeling pretty exhilarated, and he feels like he’s just fought and won a major battle--Haruki, on the other hand, still looks a little stunned. He smiles up at Haruki, and Haruki instantly turns red again and looks away (he’s adorable). So Hikaru chuckles a little and brings Haruki to face him again and they kiss a third time, and a fourth, and a fifth--long enough for both of them to completely forget about the reports.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> caught up with current dansen wars subs and the only thing that keeps coming to mind is
> 
> muraku and haruki share a room

After the chaos of Bandit being revealed as Ezeldarm, Rossius losing a major chunk of their forces, and the mass exodus of Lost students, Haruki expected some degree of tumult--some amount of power-shifting and re-settling by Management would be natural. But Haruki hadn’t expected a Rossius platoon to transfer into Jenock, and he certainly hadn’t expected to become allies with the Violet Devil.

Even more unexpected, though, was him _sharing a room_ with Houjou Muraku. He had nothing against sharing a room; he actually felt a little guilty for enjoying a room alone while most of the other students shared (like poor Hikaru with Arata, who snores up a storm every night). And he had (mostly) nothing against Houjou Muraku--and now that he was his ally, he had even less reason to hold any ill feelings toward him.

That doesn’t stop Haruki from being a bit nervous about sharing a room with Muraku, who had always been a bit of a figure (rather than just another student) at Kamui Daimon. He’s not sure what kind of person Houjou Muraku will be behind all the rumors and preceding reputations--if he’ll have any odd habits, if he’ll be neat or messy (most likely neat, from his immaculate uniform), et cetera.

(Haruki almost catches himself wondering if Muraku even eats or sleeps like a normal human--he shakes it off and tries to remember, _Muraku is a fellow student and ally_ , of course he’s a normal human being. But still...)

There’s a knock on his door, snapping Haruki out of his thoughts (which, at the moment, was whether or not Muraku always wears those gloves). Right, Muraku was moving in today--he’d need help moving his things in. He opens the door and Muraku stands there, with surprisingly basic luggage (what was he expecting, a full wardrobe and a fancy tea service?).

“Is this all of your luggage?” Haruki asks, just to be on the safe side--he figures it’s okay to ask just in case he has to help him move in more from outside.

Muraku nods. “Yes, it is.” He glances at his pile. “I hope I’m not inconveniencing you too much by moving in?”

Haruki starts carrying some of the boxes in. “Relax, this is your room, too, now.” The boxes are surprisingly light. “And it’s no inconvenience at all, I’m happy I could offer you a place to stay.” 

They continue to move in boxes, and soon they finish unpacking--bringing in Muraku’s few belongings was fairly short work between the two of them. During the whole process Muraku is polite and well-mannered, and Haruki figures, he should try to help Muraku and his platoon settle into Jenock more smoothly. He’s no fearsome devil or looming figure, but a student much like him--and as class president and platoon captain, Haruki can kind of understand the pressure Muraku dealt with as a major leader within Rossius’ forces. Haruki can’t help but feel like he wants to help Muraku out now that he’s in Jenock: Muraku deserves that much.

Later, after they’ve both washed up from the work (no, Muraku doesn’t always wear those gloves) they relax in the lounge, Mikhail and Vanessa also hanging around to get to know the other Jenock students. (Kageto was still a little cold, but Haruki noted that he seemed to be able to talk to Kiyoka as a fellow mechanic.) Haruki is pleasantly surprised by how easy it is to have a conversation with Muraku, and soon they’re swapping stories about troublesome platoon members (Arata, Hikaru, Mikhail, and Vanessa butt in with the occasional “hey!”, “that’s not fair!”, “there were reasons!”, “it’s Arata’s/Hikaru’s/Mikhail’s/Vanessa’s fault!”, etc.). When one of their platoon members pipes up, they share a knowing glance with each other and try not to laugh; Muraku has a wonderful poker face, but Haruki always lets a bit of a chuckle slip (to which Muraku then finally cracks a smile).

It’s late at night, and time for lights-out: the students all head back to their rooms, exchanging “good night!”s and “see you tomorrow!”s and “let’s do our best!”s. Haruki and Muraku head back to their room, a peaceful silence settling in the dorms. As they head to bed and Haruki’s about to turn the lights out, Muraku speaks up.

“Thank you, Haruki.”

Haruki pauses. “For what?”

“For today. For welcoming us into Jenock, even when the rest of the class had their doubts.” He turns to face him. “And to everyone else in Jenock as well, for being willing to get to know us.”

Haruki smiles. “Mikhail and Vanessa are pretty tough--they can adapt to their situations, and it seems like they’re getting along well with the rest of the bunch. Kageto seems a bit reluctant, but I think he’ll warm up soon; maybe he just needs a bit of time to settle. And you guys have time.”

Muraku hesitates. “We’ll see about time.”

Haruki reaches to switch off the light. “Well, no use worrying about it right now; there will be plenty of ‘seeing about’ and such tomorrow. We should sleep, we’ll need it for War Time tomorrow.”

Muraku shifts in his corner, which is probably him nodding. “You’re right. Good night, Haruki.”

“Good night, Muraku.”

“...Please take care of me from now on.”

Haruki smiles, even though Muraku can’t see. “Same to you.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> more muraku and haruki. heck yes i love haruki
> 
> (but i might just enjoy seeing haruki with like. everyone. haha sorry not sorry)

It was all a blur. The proxy nations had all gathered as one force to take down Ezeldarm, Bandit, World Saver, whatever they really were--and as they discussed strategies and battle plans someway or another Haruki had been handed the commander’s mantle. At the time, accepting was easy; but now that the rush of “we’re going to fight!” and “let’s take down the terrorists!” and that general air had worn off, he was left wondering if maybe he’d been too hasty. Commander of all the combined forces--it felt a bit too weighty for him to handle. What could he do, being a captain from a medium-sized country (and not, say, a powerhouse like Rossius or Arabista--at least they had the resources and talent to maintain their sizable borders)?

From the rooftop he could see all the students--wearing different colors, but working together to prepare for tomorrow’s War Time. Being placed in command of so many students already made Haruki’s stomach knot, but the fact that the result of this battle would affect millions worldwide--

Haruki’s fingers tightened around the fence links. He could remember: the loss of Rikuya’s Parasite Key; the near-loss of Hikaru; the mess of Death Forest; Rossius’ destruction; his former--

_\--No, he’d put that behind him. He wasn’t going to beat himself up over the Lost, he had to focus on the present, on what he could do--_

He leaned his head against the fence. Maybe he shouldn’t be leader, not when there were so many other capable students at this school. Someone who can fight, someone who can calmly assess the situation, someone with battle experience, someone who _hasn’t led a platoon to destruction_ \--

“Someone like Muraku,” he says, absentmindedly, not quite realizing he spoke.

“Someone like me? For what?” A calm voice snaps Haruki back into reality--apparently, he hadn’t realized he had company, either.

“Muraku,” he says; his mind is still in a stunned daze. He shakes away his thoughts and clears his throat. “What is it?”

Muraku studies him with that cool gaze--Haruki’s seen it during briefings when they discuss the day’s battle plans, and it usually means Muraku is studying the opponents and deciding on brilliant strategies.

(Haruki’s not sure how to feel about being the subject of his study--on one hand, he’s worried about what kind of conclusions Muraku will manage to draw from him right now; and on the other, he feels a slight self-conscious blush creep into his ears.)

“Haruki,” Muraku finally speaks. He walks toward him, and Haruki can feel his body shifting unconsciously closer to the fence. “I came to discuss tomorrow’s War Time plans with you.” Oh. If Muraku had ideas, he was more than open to them--heck, maybe he should just give him command. Haruki is about to say something when--

“--But before I do, there’s something important I have to address.”

Oh. “What is it?”

Muraku steps closer. Haruki tries not to step back (he can’t, anyway, his back is to the fence).

“You’re doubting, aren’t you.” It’s not a question, but a statement. Haruki looks down, hands clutching the fence. What can he say: ”you got me, so please take this Commander’s mantle before my knees buckle from the weight”? No, he can’t. He had picked up the mantle and thrown it over his own shoulders--to back down from the responsibility he’d accepted would be inexcusable.

He doesn’t realize how hard he was gripping the fence until Muraku gently pries his hand away and holds it in his own.

“Haruki.” He looks up, meeting Muraku’s eyes. They’re steady and have a sort of warmth in them--he’s not sure how many times he’s seen Muraku look like that, but it’s definitely not often (because his ears feel warm again). “You’ve faced a lot of difficult situations, a number of them from mistakes. But you’ve learned from them and grown past them--from fighting against you, and now with you, I _know_ this. You, Arata, the others in Jenock... you’ve all grown.” He places his other gloved hand over Haruki’s. “You’re letting your mistakes hold you back--don’t. The current Izumo Haruki is not the past Izumo Haruki; he is more than capable of being the Commander. We all acknowledged it, and we all chose you.”

He’s not sure what he expected from Muraku, but his reassuring words are beyond anything he could’ve expected--yet it was exactly what he needed, from just the right person.

(How does he reply to something like this?)

He doesn’t trust himself to reply in words, so instead he brings his other hand to Muraku’s hands. Eventually he manages to whisper out:

“Thank you.”

Muraku smiles. “Let’s go, then, Commander. We need to meet with the others to discuss our battle plans for tomorrow.” He takes Haruki’s hand again and leads him to the stairwell door. Haruki willingly follows--his step is lighter and his brow less furrowed.

Somehow, he feels like he--no, _they_ \--can manage this.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> spoilers for dansen wars ep. 33. i tried to write something to cheer myself up but failed miserably. oops.
> 
> i just want my babies to be happy ;~; danwars, why ;~;

Tadashi isn’t sure how to feel when Haruki, Hikaru, and Muraku walk back in the classroom, shoulders heavy with the news:

“Kaito has betrayed us.”

He’s not sure how to feel because what? Kaito? Betrayed? They’re speaking, but he can’t seem to attach meaning to any of the things coming out of their mouths.

First of all, Tadashi doesn’t even know what happened after Arata was called away and the three snuck after him. Where was Arata, anyway? And why do they look so exhausted? Did they manage to find him?

He turns to discuss things with Kaito behind him.

“Kaito has betrayed us.”

The wheels start turning and language concepts start clicking and the meaning of the words he didn’t want to understand gradually solidifies in his head.

_“Kaito has betrayed us.”_

 

He blinks. He should find Nozomi.

 

He turns to the other seat to find her. Oh good, he thinks, she’s still there, just as she always is. But the relief doesn’t even last a second--his insides twist and his body goes cold and he wonders, in all his time, has he _ever_ seen her like that? She’s staring at Kaito’s empty seat, confused eyes searching the vacated space for an explanation.

(Tadashi would love an explanation, too.)

They meet each other’s gaze, confused expressions mirroring each other, then turn to find Bunta--he doesn’t notice them because he’s staring down into his lap and refusing to look up.

The rest of the class is in various stages of uproar: from Gendou sitting silently at his seat, arms crossed, expression clouded; to Rikuya, hands clutching his desk and trying to hold back tears; to Catherine, screaming curses at a Kaito who can’t hear her and pounding tiny fists on her desk. Yuno tries to extract an explanation from Haruki in hushed, panicked tones, while Kiyoka consults her tarot cards.

No one but Tadashi notices Nozomi standing up and walking to Bunta, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder and trying to talk to him. That’s so Nozomi-like, to be such a supportive, strong person at a time like this. But she’s just as hurting inside, and Tadashi has no idea how to help her. (He has no idea what to do from now on, either.)

All he can think of at the moment is joining Nozomi and Bunta, taking both their hands in his. They don’t need to exchange words--there’s no need to put to words this sense of loss that hurts more than a simple expulsion. A sense of loss that cuts deeper because their Captain _chose_ to leave _them_.

They sit in silence while the unspoken question weighs in the air: “Where will the Fifth Platoon go now?”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i was cleaning out some docs in my folders and thought i'd post a couple old pieces I did for a dansen exchange~
> 
> this first one is muraku and arata

It all started with Arata’s suggestion--but then again, most things did.

 _Look, Muraku,_ he said, stretching his arms out against the background of Kamui Island, _all this awesome sand and sun and sea and can you believe it, no one in all of Kamui Daimon has bothered to enjoy them?_ It’s a very Arata-like thing, to notice something like a beach opportunity amidst the hustle and bustle and the occasional chaos of War Time and schoolwork. He’s always had a knack for finding those, those unexpected but somehow helpful ideas, in situations he’s been thrown in.

(It’s very different from his own carefully calculated and strategized actions, and perhaps that’s why he was drawn to him. _Opposites attract,_ or so the old saying goes.)

Arata is already halfway to the water, blazer and jacket thrown carelessly behind him somewhere and trouser cuffs hastily being rolled up as he half-hops, half-runs to the waves. He runs in too deep, misjudging the size and speed of the oncoming waves--soon enough he’s bowled over by the water rushing over his head. Muraku doesn’t worry, though; soon enough (almost as if on cue with his expectations) bright red breaks through the waves and Arata is shaking the salt from his face, laughing and turning to Muraku.

 _Come in, what are you waiting for?_ Arata waves to him from the beach, and Muraku can’t help but smile and raise a hand in return. _It’s a nice day for a swim, after all,_ he thinks as he slips off his jacket and folds it to the side, tucking it near his shoes and socks. He arranges his and Arata’s clothes in a pile, and lastly he tugs off his gloves, folding them inside his jacket.

He feels like he can appreciate Kamui’s geography a little more now.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> another one done for that same exchange! mikhail and vanessa, precious sixth platoon babies <3
> 
> (also featured: prime examples of how i couldn't hold onto a consistent style even back then haha oops)

“Hmm, 108.6 degrees Fahrenheit; yup, there’s no mistaking it.”

“No! I’m sure that thermometer’s wrong! I’m totally okay!”

Mikhail notices the signs of Vanessa about to lunge for the thermometer and nimbly sidesteps her reach. It’s not all that hard, especially considering 1) he’s fought battles with her for _how long now_ , and 2) her fever made her miss Mikhail’s hand by a foot. He didn’t even have to move to dodge, but he figured teasing her like that would just be adding fuel to the fire--a cranky, sick Vanessa was already a handful, and he wasn’t sure he could handle an _angry_ , cranky, sick Vanessa.

Either way, Mikhail gives her a look and crosses his arms. “Vanessa, this is the fifth thermometer you’ve said was wrong in the past hour.” He shakes his head. “Give it up, you’re sick.”

Vanessa wails. “B-b-but Mikhaaaaaillll--” (Oh, dear, she started coughing up a storm.) Mikhail patiently waits for her to subside, even though he’s pretty sure she's about to complain about wanting to be in today’s mission.

“--I wanted to take out the Arabista jerks today!” (Yup, right on the money. And next she’ll say something about a missed opportunity--) “And when does a chance to fight the White Fox ever come?” (--should he cut her off or let her go on?) “And Kageto just tuned up my LBX, I’ve been dying to try it out--” (he actually tuned them last Thursday, she hasn’t been dying that much to try it out) “and I’m going to get rusty if I just sit around like this!” (Mikhail feels like he’s the one with a fever now.)

He’s just gonna have to reason with her, even though it means making her angry. He’s weighed the options while Vanessa ranted, and he’s decided that 1) it’s better for Vanessa to sit out for a faster recovery, because 2)--

“Look, Vanessa, you need to rest as much as you can to recover as fast as you can. You want to go back out there soon, I know, but you’re not going to be able to fight your best when you can’t even snatch this thermometer from me.” (He’s gonna get hit for that one, isn’t he--

_ouch!_

All of a sudden, Vanessa’s aim with a nearby book dramatically increased.)

He rubs his head; this is a small price to pay, he thinks, compared to option 2. “A-anyways, I, or rather, _we_ , would all rather have you get better quickly and join us in peak form.”

He hesitates a little.

“...Let me get you something to eat.”

\---

Vanessa can’t believe it, holy shit, Mikhail is one hell of a cook.

“Oh my god, you could totally be a housewife or something,” she says, only it comes out more like a slobber because she’s too busy slurping away at the soup Mikhail’s brought over. Mikhail doesn’t even flinch from already being used to her eating habits; she’s pretty thankful that he (and the rest of the platoon) don’t make a fuss about it.

“Man,” she says inbetween spoonfuls, “if being sick means I get to eat your cooking, maybe I should get sick more.” To her surprise Mikhail kind of freezes, looking at her with a weird kind of worried look. Shoot, she was just joking; Mikhail needs to learn to joke more (or else he’ll end up like Kageto, or worse, Muraku-- _by the way_ why was no one in this platoon particularly humorous?).

She laughs. “Just kidding, I’d rather fight.” She scrapes the bottom of the bowl for another spoonful. Mikhail’s shoulders seem to relax a little at her appetite, both for fights and food. Good--she can’t keep him worrying about her so much. He’s got enough on his own plate. And seriously, she doesn’t even feel _that_ sick; missing the thermometer was a fluke.

She’s so distracted by scraping the bowl (and feeling _not sick_ ) that she’s taken by surprise by a cool touch against her forehead--Mikhail is checking her fever, comparing it with a hand to his own forehead. He peers at her closely.

“Your fever feels like it might’ve gone down a little; maybe the food and rest helped.”

Vanessa practically throws the covers aside--or would have, if Mikhail hadn’t stopped her. Dammit. He knows her too well.

“No, Vanessa, you’re still running a temperature. Just stay in bed for the rest of today, and hopefully you’ll be better by tomorrow morning.” Vanessa tries to protest. “No buts.” Dammit.

She pouts. “Well, I’m gonna be bored sitting here all day. Make up for it.” Treat her like a queen, bring her candy and a Swallow Cafe parfait, or _something_ \--she hates being cooped up and told to stay still.

Instead Mikhail brushes her bangs aside and leaves a small kiss on her forehead. “Get better, and we’ll negotiate.” He turns to leave, and Vanessa can swear she sees the tips of his ears turning pink.

...Probably as pink as she’s turning right now. Shit.

\---

Mikhail closes the room door gently, leaving Vanessa to rest. He doesn’t particularly enjoy leaving Vanessa rolled up in blankets like that, but it’s the best thing to do; she needs to get better, and running around outside like she normally does isn’t going to help. And he would 1) much rather endure taking care of an angry, cranky, sick Vanessa than 2) let her fight in War Time in such a condition and…

...Well, even with all his faith in their platoon’s capabilities there’s no telling what could happen in War Time. And he just wants to make sure Vanessa does not get Lost.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a scrap fic i found in my folders while doing a bit of cleaning. sorry everything is old i miss having time for writing ;__;
> 
> anyways have some grown-up haruki and hikaru, domestic fluff because i'm into that. ye

When they wake up together, it’s almost always Haruki who wakes first. It’s his touch--in his hair, on his shoulder, around his hands--that then wakes Hikaru.

Haruki is a morning person, waking up when the sun does--by the time Hikaru can (barely) bring himself to sit up, Haruki is washed and dressed and ready to ask what Hikaru would like for breakfast. Hikaru is the opposite: he prefers to sleep in as much as possible, burrowing his head into Haruki’s chest and holding him tight as Haruki gently pushes him back.

 _I can’t make breakfast like this,_ he says, _and you need to get up and get ready._ He’s still the ever-responsible platoon leader, but different from those days--not in a bad way, not at all, because while his words attempt to be stern his voice is warm and his arms are inviting and Hikaru manages to drag him down for an extra minute or five.

 

* * *

Hikaru allows himself to be selfish in the morning--he starts by latching onto Haruki’s warmth, not letting the latter get up and go about his day. His day can start when Hikaru wakes up, he thinks, and it’s only after enough of a (gentle) scolding that he reluctantly lets go and gets out of bed himself. By the time he’s dressed the smell of breakfast floats through their apartment. Haruki has two plates ready at the table, next to Hikaru’s coffee and Haruki’s tea--a dash of milk and sugar for Hikaru, and none for Haruki.

(When they first started living together they made a plan to take turns cooking, but after the third instance of “forgetting” (oversleeping) breakfast duties became Haruki’s. _This is for the better,_ Hikaru thinks, as Haruki’s cooking is far better than his own.)

The murmur of morning news behind them (“--new developments in LBX technology have contributed to the latest robotics research; prototypes for various sectors, such as space development, large-scale simulations, etc. are already in development--”) floats by as they eat, neither of them particularly attentive. Today Hikaru has an exhibition match at the park arena, and Haruki has a lot of work to do with organizing this year’s Artemis. There’s a meeting with Tiny Orbit today, who is sponsoring this year’s grand prize--Hikaru teases him, asking if Haruki can bring it home instead. _Of course not,_ he replies, with a stern look on his face. But his features soften as he adds. _You’re already a great battler, even without it._

Hikaru ducks his head over the plate and eats faster, cheeks flushing. He just can’t win against Haruki.


End file.
